I Want, I Need, I Love
by DizzyAlice
Summary: Wendy just can't bring herself to say those three little words to Stan. But there's got to be a reason behind it, right? Or is she just imagining Stan being more wrapped up in his Super Best Friend than her? One-shot, STendy with undertones of STyle.


A/N: Um, yeah. I haven't written any fanfics in, like, forever. This just kind of happened. When I started writing it, it was actually originally going to be in Kyle's POV, but then I made an impulsive decision and switched it to Wendy. I originally hated this when I wrote it. Like, a lot. But it's grown on me... and I actually sort of like it now =)  
This is a one-shot, in case you couldn't figure that out.  
I really don't like STendy. But this has some undertones of one-sided STyle too so it's all good. I do feel bad for Wendy though... it must suck for her.  
Oh well. Read, enjoy, and reviews would be wonderful.  
I, of course, do not own South Park or any related characters.

* * *

Words. Just a bunch of letters thrown together to form some sort of meaningful chunk. If you think about it, words are really ridiculous. They're a good way to communicate, sure, but whoever decided that the sky should be called the sky? I mean, why not call the earth the sky, and clouds birds? It's all the same.

Emotions are where it gets even more complicated. A word for an emotion never feels like the right way to describe it. How can you describe something that only you can know, only you can feel? I want, I need.

I love.

I tried explaining this to him, but he didn't get it. I think it's something that only makes sense in my own mind. Stan just doesn't understand that while I certainly want him, I need him more than anything, I can't say if I love him.

There are certain ways that I love him. I love when he's just woken up in the morning, sleep still in his eyes and his black hair wildly out of control. I love when I catch him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, or when he stares at me so intensely I feel like it's going to burn a hole right through me. I love when he tells me he loves me.

The problem is, whenever he says this I can't manage to say it back. I don't know why. The words are right there, in my head, but I can't get them to make the passage to my mouth and out my lips.

Stan has always been a better liar than me. Maybe it's because I half believe he's lying to me about loving me. I don't know why he would. Actually, yes. I do know.

Stan may claim he loves me, but I really don't think that I'm the one he's saying it to.

We're practically twins, raven hair and deep blue eyes, both of us gifted in different ways. He's the quarterback of the football team. I'm the class president. It was just sort of expected that we would date. And we have been, off and on but mostly on, since grade school.

But I've seen the way Stan looks at him, the Super Best Friend, a devotion in his eyes I have never seen when they're cast my way. Stan may say that he loves me, he may get angry when I don't say it back, but there's only one person he truly loves.

I like Stan, a hell of a lot. That doesn't change, no matter who Stan loves or how I'm feeling. Stan still makes me shiver and moan when he kisses me just right, trailing his fingers along the back of my spine.

"Do you love me, Wendy?" he asks.

"I want you," I whisper in return. "I need you."

"But do you love me?"

"I don't know, Stan. I just don't know."

That's when he gives a frustrated sigh, moving away from me, not even looking at me. "All I want is to hear you say it. Three little words."

"I can't. I don't know why. I just can't."

He casts me a doleful glance. "Please, Wends. I can't take much more of this. I just need to know. If you don't love me… I don't know if I can keep this up."

"So you're saying I either have to say it, or you'll break up with me," I reply flatly. He sighs, nodding slowly. "Stan…" I begin, trying to explain. "I just don't think I can commit to something, to you, that much… when I know that I'm not the one you want."

He blinks at me. Clearly that was not what he was expecting me to say. "What are you talking about?"

"Come on, Stan. I'm not blind. I see the way you look at him, the way you want him. It's him, not me, that you want to love you."

A pained look crosses his angular features. "Don't bring Kyle into this," he whispers.

"See, that right there. I never said his name. But you knew exactly who I was talking about," I accuse, starting to get upset.

There's a brief flash of horror as he realizes what he's just done. He confirmed my suspicions, right then and there. The horror is quickly replaced with guilt, overwhelming and consuming. "I'm sorry, Wendy. I just… I can't help it. When I'm with him…"

"I know," I say softly, looking away. "It's probably the same way I feel around you. But I just – I _can't_ be around you, not while you're around him. It doesn't work that way, Stan. You can't have us both. There's a decision that needs to be made here."

I felt a little bad about making Stan choose between his best friend and me, but I also knew it wasn't really a competition. Stan would choose Kyle. Of course he would. I would get dumped, and I wouldn't have to worry about this whole mess anymore.

"I guess… I guess I should go then," Stan says quietly. "Bye, Wendy. I'll see you around?"

"Don't count on it," I say, not able to look at him. He waits another second, then leaves. Once he's gone, I think it, just to myself. _I love you._ Never before has anything sounded so true, or hurt so much.

**The End.**


End file.
